


infinity love

by fluffy_miracle



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ashes Scene in Avengers: Infinity War Part 1, Avengers Infinity War fix it, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Feelings, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Genocide, Grief, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mourning, Pining, Post Ashes, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Self-Acceptance, Stucky - Freeform, spoilers for Infinity War, the avengers help each other out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-06 04:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_miracle/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: The aftermath of Thanos’s mercy had the universe reeling in pain and grief, most of all, Steve Rogers, who just can’t seem to make the timing or the words right. He’s loved HIM for a long time and yet here they are again, cruelly separated with no way for Steve to get HIM back while Steve chokes on words and feelings left unsaid for far too long.This is the story of how he grieves, how he heals, and how he learns that just maybe hope isn’t too far out of reach.





	1. Reality

It wasn’t until they were back at the Wakandan palace, all of them mourning someone they lost: lovers, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, comrades, and friends, that Steve let his brain wrap around what had just happened. He let his shields go. They clattered to the ground, and he left them where he lay, escaping to the privacy of his room before the name he most needed to say left his lips. The great Captain America had been defeated. He thought he had known defeat before. He had thought he knew loss, but nothing seemed to match the utter grief he carried within.

“Buck.” He whispered. 

Once he thought he was nothing without the shield or the uniform, but then Bucky had taught him that he was what he stood for. He stood for Bucky, he had always stood for Bucky, all the way to the end of the line. Steve just never thought the end of the line would ever come. He had thought they were beyond the end of the line already, especially when Bucky had come back from the dead, had come back from two very different kind of deaths. Bucky had come back for Steve. He had never said the words, nor did Steve have the hope he ever would, but he had said it just by coming back, remembering.

Bucky Barnes was Steve’s best friend; he was the best man he had ever known. He had defined Steve more than anyone else had ever hoped to.

“Fuck it, Bucky!” Steve raged, punching a mirror that shattered easily under his fist. He stood in the midst of the perfect reflection of himself: broken, utterly and irreparably broken. He had learned after the war that he never could be quite as whole on his own as he was with Bucky.

“Are you okay, Captain?” It was Shuri, acting as protector, guardian, and queen in her brother’s absence. Her eyes held unshed tears too. Steve remembered they were all in mourning. “It’s a foolish question.” She answered herself, bowing her head ever so slightly. “None of us are okay.” Steve nodded his head, grateful for the queen’s permission to feel, to be broken. He would have imploded if he felt he had to carry the weight of pretending at a time where he felt he had no strength to pretend. “He was a great man, no matter how much he denied it.” Shuri cocked her head to the side, studying Steve. “If your places had been exchanged, he would be grieving just as much as you are.” Steve bowed his head as tears threatened once more to give way. “My brother,” her voice cracked, ”called him the white wolf, but never a lone wolf.”

“Until the end of the line.” Steve spoke up in a low voice. “That’s what we would tell each other.”

“Can I inquire about the manner of your relationship?” Steve remembered a time where he would have punched someone for insinuating that about him and Bucky. He had no desire to hurt Shuri. It just reminded him of years of pretending, years of a great weight. He was grateful the world had changed even if he wasn’t willing to change with it yet. Changing meant facing himself. Changing meant accepting himself. He wouldn’t be the Cap if he wasn’t always carrying some great weight, as if Bucky’s death wasn’t enough.

“He was my,” Steve paused, “he was my everything, although I never told him that. I never could. I couldn’t bear to lose him, but it looks like I already did.” He had meant to say that Bucky was his best friend, his brother in arms, his rock. Bucky had been all of those things, but still so much more. Steve risked everything for him and would do it again if it meant for another miracle, another resurrection.

“He’s still with you.” Shuri said carefully. “And I think he knew. He loved to tell me stories of you. He was a quiet man unless he was talking about Steve.” Steve opened his mouth and she cut him off. “He talked only about Steve, not the Captain.”

“He always saw past the shield.” Steve cracked a small smile. “I miss him. I just got him back and he’s already fucking gone.”

“That I understand.” Shuri gave him a sad smile. “Goodnight, Steve.” She turned to go. “You may stay as long as you want, although you might find other rooms here more comforting.” She pointed at a door across the hall. “The white wolf lived there. I want you to have it. May you find some small comfort there.”

“Thank you, Shuri. I hope you find some comfort too.” 

“Much appreciated.” She nodded in return, taking her leave. Steve didn’t find sleep that night, but he did move into Buck’s room. He stood by the window most of the night, staring at the peaceful city wondering if he’d ever truly know what peace felt like. Early morning he collapsed on Bucky’s bed, finding it far too easy to sleep swamped in Bucky’s scent.

He missed him. The tears came before he could fall asleep. He missed him so much.


	2. Space

“Steve?” Steve looked over at Bucky’s voice, watched as his best friend dissolved into ash. He tried to rush over, but was too late, always too late.

“Bucky!” Steve screamed, waking himself up. He thrashed against the stranglehold of the blankets and his last memory of Bucky. He needed to stop watching Bucky fall. Bucky didn’t deserve all this shit that kept happening to him. Steve would have taken the fall from the train, he would have taken the ash: all he ever wanted to do was to keep his best friend safe. He was grabbing at pillows, pillows still so much more substantial than ash. He was shaking, sweating, the tears already dripping down his cheeks into his beard. The space between them was always greater than he could cross. Why did he always have to be the one to let Buck go? Bucky went to war. Bucky was captured. Bucky fell. Bucky was captured. Bucky forgot him. Bucky chose to be frozen again. Bucky was fucking cremated before his eyes without any chance of being saved. Steve was pretty fucking sick of being praised as a shield when he couldn’t even protect the one he loved the most.

Steve couldn’t bear to look at his shields in the passing days. He had never wanted to be a fighter. He had always just been a shield. He had fought to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. He had fought to protect those he loved. And now, here he was, empty-handed, alone, a waste of space in a place that was more of a refuge than his own country. Captain Wakanda had a nice ring to it, but they already had their own protector and shield. Or at least they did. Steve had lost a lot of friends the day Thanos snapped his fingers. He missed Bucky most of all, but he mourned T’Challa too. He couldn’t even process that Sam was gone or Wanda was gone. Vision. Too many to count. Steve hung his head. He hadn’t made it out of Wakanda to even peer how much this had affected the whole world, hell, the whole universe. Steve didn’t want to know just yet. He couldn’t even deal with his own world, let alone, the entirety of what everyone else was dealing with. He had failed them. The Avengers had failed them all. Earth’s mightiest heroes fucked up. They didn’t deserve to be called heroes. So he left the shields in their cases-- he didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve to be a shield for those who needed someone to stand up for them. He could barely hold himself up as it was.

The nightmares continued, reliving one of the worst moments of his life. Steve busied himself with other things, like supporting Shuri as she took the role of Black Panther. Steve was proud of the princess turned queen. Under the pressure, she had stepped up, supported a country and a crown. She had undergone trials and testings while having lost one more loved one. Shuri and T’Challa’s mother was still alive, thankfully, but the duty of Wakanda fell to Shuri who still felt more comfortable in her lab than on the throne. While not a Wakandan, Steve’s support was appreciated. He was still Captain America even if he was alone and basically a refugee.

“Steve.” Steve wondered for a moment if he was now having nightmares while awake. Sure, he spaced out more often than not, wandering around the city of Wakanda. This was the last place Bucky had lived. Steve wanted to experience it too. “Steve!”

“Huh?” He whipped around to see one of the last people he expected to hear calling his name in a relieved tone.

“Tony.” Steve said warily, eyeing his former friend. The last time he had seen Tony they had been fighting over Bucky; they had been trying to kill each other over Bucky. It hurt to see Tony, to remember they had been friends once. “When did you get here? I heard you were missing.”

“Well, it turns out I’m only good at disappointing people.” Tony remarked back. “I meant to call.”

“Yeah, right.” Steve turned.

“Wait.” Tony hurried after him. “I heard about Bucky.” That name froze Steve in his tracks, his fists clenching on his own accord. If Tony was about to-- “I’m sorry.” Tony said softly. Steve wouldn’t look back at Tony, he couldn’t. “I’m sorry.” Tony repeated himself, but for whatever reason, Steve heard how much deeper that apology went. He wasn’t just sorry for what had happened to Bucky; he was sorry for what had happened over Bucky.

“Me too.” Steve whispered.

“Thor just brought me back. I was stuck on Titan.” Tony’s tone hinted at more troubles, troubles he wasn’t going to burden Steve with. 

“I was going to go fail at getting drunk.” Steve spoke up, glancing over his shoulder before Tony could turn to go. “You want to come with?”

“Yea.” Tony turned back to face him, offering a tentative smile. Smiles seemed foreign on all of their faces. Steve found himself wondering about who Tony had lost for his smile to be as strained as his. “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” It felt wrong to smile, but it was also a relief. Steve felt just a tiny bit less alone as he walked down the street with Tony, just two men, not two superheroes, but two men who had loved, lost, and were still around to talk about it. It had to count for something. Steve would take it since he didn’t have much else going for him.


	3. Time

“I can’t get ahold of Pepper.” Tony admitted five shots later. He was swaying on his feet despite being leaned over a table. “She wouldn’t miss my call, not with everything that’s happened. Did I tell you we got engaged? I bought her the biggest rock I could find and then I couldn’t stop dreaming that we were having kids.”

“You should go find her.”

“What if there’s nothing left to find?” Ah, there was the crux of all their brokenness. Tony had spilled about their final fight and their final stand. His wounds were still healing, all except the ones left behind by people fading into nothingness like they never existed. 

“You need to know for sure.” Steve spoke up. “If I had the slightest hope that Buck was alive, I wouldn’t be drinking my weight in liquor right now. I’d be out there, combing the globe to find him.” His voice hitched. “I’d do anything to get him back.”

“Kind of already knew that, Cap.” Tony drawled, trying to make a joke. “I’m scared, Steve.”

“And if she’s out there, she’s just as scared.”

“If I go back, I have to find the kid’s aunt.” Peter. Peter was the biggest regret that Tony was wearing around like he had his suit. Ironic how neither of them wanted anything to do with their suits and shields. They were too broken to be anything but themselves in moments like these. There was no more hiding behind masks and secret identities.

“Then hide here with the rest of us.”

“You’re right, I should go.” Steve snorted on his shot and Tony let out a painful sounding laugh. They hugged before they left the bar and Tony whispered an apology one more time while Steve whispered best wishes.

Steve didn’t drink much after that. It never helped anyway. He found himself back at a punching bag, letting out all the anger and grief twisting inside of him. Natasha would come and punch with him. She was quiet, but she was there. Her presence said all the words that Steve needed most to hear. Soon, she had him training with her, Banner watching from the sidelines at times. Steve didn’t have to tell Natasha that she was lucky, she knew. They still had shit to figure out, just like Bruce and the Hulk did, but they were both alive, they were both here. Steve couldn’t begrudge them that. He knew he would get through this as much as he didn’t want to. It would just take time. The one thing he had so much of that he didn’t want. He wanted to be with Bucky again, just hanging out like they used to do. He wanted to tell Bucky the truth, about himself, about how he felt about James Buchanan Barnes. Steve promised himself that if he ever got another chance to see Bucky, he’d tell him, even if it was at the gates of heaven just before he was hurled out. He’d love Bucky until the end of the line, all the way into the afterlife if that was what it took to stop living a lie.

Steve found himself in a sacred space on one of his wandering into the Wakandan city. He usually avoided places like these, places that made him think about souls and where they go, especially lying souls.

“You are troubled.” Steve glanced up to see an old man standing a few feet away. “You are troubled just like the white wolf was.” The man nodded, beckoning for Steve to follow him. Steve did, even though his feet wanted to run in the opposite way. He didn’t need another sermon, he needed someone to understand how heavy his burden was, he needed someone to help him carry it. “See?” The man pointed to the wooden wall where someone had etched a single star into the wood. “It was the only time I saw him wear his metal arm. It was his last visit.”

“You know what happened to him.”

“I know death is not the end.” The priest nodded his head. “I know you carry him in your heart and your mind. He carried you in his.” The priest pointed to the star again. “This was his last prayer.” A star seemed so simple, but it was weighted with meaning. A star has symbolized them both at one time. “He prayed that you would be okay in the coming fight. He prayed you would be safe.” Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes faster than he could hide them. “My son.” The priest stepped over and embraced him, allowing Steve the privacy of his shoulder. “Let go of all that guilt. Love is not something to regret or hate. You were made to love and you loved him well.”

“No, I didn’t.” Steve sobbed. “I never told him that I loved him more than a best friend. I never told him how much I wanted to be with him.”

“Not with your words.” The priest held Steve, content to hold him and his burdens as he unloaded years of guilt, shame, hate, and suppression. “Tell him tonight, Steve. Tell his spirit, tell his memory. He will be listening and you won’t have to be carrying all this pain around any longer.”

“I miss him.”

“He missed you.” Steve sniffled, taking a step back. The man let him go as Steve wiped his face.

“What was your name again?” Steve asked. The priest smiled as he faded from view.

“I didn’t say.”


	4. Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little longer than normal, but I wanted to include a brief idea that I've been toying with for a while.
> 
> Steve gets some much-needed comfort from an understanding friend.

Steve found himself wandering back to that sacred space, he supposed it was a temple of sorts, time and time again. He never saw that priest again, only in the archives of fallen friends and family in the war between cousins. Steve realized just how little he was aware of, how narrow his mind could be at times. He was so busy fighting bullies sometimes that he missed the rest of the world. He hadn’t known that T’Challa had lost the throne and then won it back in an almost Wakandan civil war of their own. Steve knew from experience how bitter those were; hell, he still bore the scars. Seeing Tony had helped. Steve wished T’Challa was still alive-- he wanted to the king to teach him how to heal such scars, scars that T’Challa obviously had not carried.

What was it like to find peace even amidst all the fighting? What was it like to be at peace inside in the middle of all the fighting? Steve ran to war because it distracted him from the war inside his mind.

He crouched by the star, pressing his fingers against the wood still grooved by Bucky’s metal fingers. It was proof that Buck had been here, that he had once lived, and that he gave a shit about Steve.

“Buck.” Steve closed his eyes. He had been in Wakanda for months. “Fuck, Buck, I still miss you so much.” He scratched over the grooves of the star with his own fingernails, preserving this landmark, this last bit of Buck. He could finally admit to himself that he loved Bucky, that he still did. It made sense why he had always been so willing to sacrifice everything for Bucky-- Bucky had been his motivation. He had joined the war to fight bullies and to be back next to Bucky. They had always said to the end of the line, but Steve had always been striving to be at the same level as Bucky. He had always been so bright, so cool, so kind. The ladies had loved him and Steve had loved him too.

Had Bucky known? Steve let out a heavy sigh, still tracing the star. Bucky had to have known and yet he hadn’t shoved Steve away. “I wanted to tell you something, Buck.” If a priest could come back from the dead in this place, maybe Bucky could be here to hear what Steve should have said all those years ago, back before the war and every day since then. Yes, he had loved Peggy too for a time, he had loved her fully, but she too had always been just beyond his reach. She was the reason he had been able to stand again after Bucky fell. She had seen him for who he was, just like Bucky had, and she had kept him around too. “James Buchanan Barnes, I love you, and I think I always have.” Steve whispered, wiping at the tears that fell every time he tried to speak to Bucky. “I wish you were back here so I could tell you in person. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in person.” He sniffled, hiding his eyes under a hand, leaning against his arm as he curled up next to the star on the wall. It was like Bucky’s room, wrapping himself up in it and pretending his best friend was next to him. His voice was less shaky as he said it for the second time in his life. “I love you, Buck.” He opened his eyes and gazed up at the sky through the design on the ceiling into the roof. A star winked down at him and Steve allowed himself to pretend that it was Bucky’s way of saying it was okay.

“Are you well, Steve?” Thor was here now. Queen Shuri had welcomed him with a quiet meal together with friends and allies. The Queen was busy, Steve didn’t get to check on her as much as he would like. He felt obligated to protect her-- she was protecting him as his brother had protected Buck.

“Well enough.” Steve glanced down at the floor with a soft laugh. Well enough as he could with his heart having been incinerated into ash in seconds. His prayers had changed from wanting him to come back to having him have felt no pain. They had all suffered enough, especially Bucky.

“Will you show me around tonight?” Thor asked. “I could use the good company, the comfort. Just two friends having survived the greatest battle of their lives yet still having lost everything.”

“I heard.” Steve said softly. “I’m sorry.” Thor had lost his father, his home, his best friend, half of his people, but they all knew it was the loss of his brother that had broken Thor like losing Bucky had broken Steve. “I’m glad he finally showed you how much he cared in the end.”

“I wish he hadn’t.” Thor’s voice cracked. “He might still be alive.” There was pain and longing in his voice. “Drink with me, Steve?”

“Gladly.” Steve didn’t drink all that much anymore. He had found that talking to Bucky was helping more than the alcohol did. Shuri had recommended an excellent therapist as well who also was helping more than alcohol could.

They walked to the bar, a woman trailing behind them. Steve glanced behind and Thor clapped a strong arm on his back.

“It’s just Valkyrie.” Thor soothed him. Steve could swear he felt vibrations pass through him at the force behind Thor’s hand. He glanced over at the axe Thor carried instead.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’ll kick your ass.” Thor said with a sound of amusement in his voice. “You’re welcome to try your luck.”

“I think I’ve had my ass kicked just about enough.” Steve’s gaze was back down, down at the street under his soft-booted feet. He had taken to wearing Bucky’s boots, as sad as that might be. He wished Bucky still had his things from before, like his hoodie. Steve would wear that too, maybe even to sleep. Thor frowned at Steve’s downcast face. He had never seen the Captain like this.

“Captain.” He said softly. “What happened?” Steve blinked quickly as if he was blinking back tears and Thor used the hand he had on Steve’s back to pull him in closer. Steve didn’t resist and Thor wondered if perhaps he had misjudged Steve. “It was Bucky, wasn’t it?” Thor had been there, had seen the look on Steve’s face. “It’s okay, Steve.” If Thor could guess anything about humans, it was that they put impossible standards on themselves and died trying to reach them, Steve Rogers most of all. 

Thor pulled Steve over to a booth, sitting close to him as he signalled for two strong drinks. It wasn’t mead, but it was still good. It seemed to clear the melancholy mood from both of their heads.

“I can’t even put it into words.” Steve tried to Thor what he had been struggling with, but saying those words meant breaking down the door to the secret he had kept the longest, even when he was a wimpy kid with nothing to offer. “It’s all stuck up here.” He gestured to his brain. He leaned back, vaguely aware that Thor’s arm was still wrapped around his shoulders. The God of Thunder was warm, comforting even. Another man’s body was not supposed to be comforting. Steve sighed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay still. He was going to stop trying to fight this.

“Oh, Captain.” Steve jumped as warm fingers were under his jaw, holding his chin. “You’ve got to stop hanging your head. What you’re struggling with-- it’s not something you should be struggling with.”

“How do you know what I am struggling with?” Steve scoffed, his blue eyes meeting Thor’s mismatched eyes with an angry glare.

“I know you are struggling with love like you humans do too much of the time. Love is not some evil to fight off. It is love that gives us something to fight for.”

“I know that and yet,” Steve paused, “and yet I don’t.” Thor's expression softened and Steve felt relief. He didn't have to pretend with Thor either; he could be honest, even if he couldn't come up with the words to tell Thor who or what he was. He was human. He loved men and women both, not just the women he tried to love only.

“I asked for comfort tonight, but I hope you can find some as well.” Steve barely had the time to register those words before Thor pressed his forehead to his. His breath felt warm on the first Avenger’s lips before stubble met beard and lips met lips. Warmth flooded Steve and he breathed into the kiss almost as easily as he had been able to breathe after the serum. He kissed back before he realized that this didn’t feel wrong except for the huge fact that this wasn’t Bucky.

“I can’t.” he broke the kiss and turned his head. “Bucky.” He said mournfully and longingly.”

“I’m not trying to take his place just like I am not asking you to take Loki’s place.” Thor said soothingly. His hand was cupping Steve’s cheek, his thumb stroking by Steve’s lips almost on its own. Steve wasn’t going to lie; it felt nice. He felt comforted being curled up with Thor. Thor’s chest was as sturdy as his own, the heat so much fuller than the emptiness that Steve usually occupied. Being with Thor made him realize how lonely he was, how isolated he made himself be. “You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” Thor whispered, drawing their mouths back together, stopping only when there were a couple inches left between them. “Comfort only. That’s all I’m looking for and offering. Just one night.” Steve glanced down at the god’s mouth, tired, weak, and feeling that he and Thor were in the exact same place, needing the same exact thing. Maybe this was okay, to want, to touch, to need. Maybe he was okay, loving whom he loved, male and female alike. And while he could never be Loki, and there was something he wasn't going to process right now, and Thor could never be Bucky, maybe this was exactly what they both needed. Steve only needed another minute to fully make up his mind.

“Okay.” Steve breathed, pushing forward, connecting their lips for the second time.

The next morning, Thor kissed his forehead before he went to see the queen. The God of Thunder was leaving, having found what he had been looking for. Steve felt as if he had found what he had been looking for too: the peace of mind that he was okay in loving Bucky. Thor had been nothing but patient, nothing but loving with him all through the night. Thor had shown him a few things, taught him some truths, and left him with a warm feeling in his chest that hadn’t been there since he saw Bucky once he got off the plane in Wakanda.

Steve was okay. He didn’t have to punish himself anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is strictly Steve/Bucky, but yes, the Steve/ Thor is being heavily implied. That being said it is only for that night-- kind of a we're both needing something and we can help each other out, but with lots of warm feelings and safety. Steve needs to hear from another avenger, a male avenger that this is okay, and since Thor has a kind of pan-vibe to him, where he has no sense of discriminating against someone because of their gender or sexuality, he seemed like the right person. 
> 
> Especially since he and Steve are both pretty high up there on having lost everything.
> 
> Thor/Steve won't be making another appearance but they will always be great friends. I just kind of wanted to explain why I included that.
> 
> I definitely think an alternative title for this story should be "I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends." :D


	5. Soul

Steve had a new outlook on life. He felt freer in his own skin, more free than he could ever remember. Pretty ironic for a man who thought he once stood for freedom. Nah. At the end of the day, Steve wasn’t an icon, a machine, or a symbol. The serum couldn’t take away the one thing he was at the end of the day: Steve was human. He was allowed to fall and get back up. He was allowed to fail and to learn. He was allowed to succeed. He was allowed to choose between hate and love. And he was allowed to keep choosing love over and over and over again.

Steve was training again. Not to fight, not to be a shield, but to get his feet back under him, to start swinging again. He couldn’t stay down. Bucky wouldn’t want him to stay down. Bucky would want him to keep fighting, to keep living.

Bucky wasn’t coming back, but Steve was. There were hard days, like the night he found Bucky’s old gym bag, meticulously clean and smelling only of Bucky. Washed anew in Buck’s scent, Steve’s tear fell fresh as he clung to the sweatshirt he found inside. The next few days found him back in bed, wrapped in the hoodie of a ghost, clutching pillows tight to his chest. Natasha pulled him out of bed on the fourth day, her mouth tight with something unspoken. It took five rounds of fighting before Steve asked Natasha what was wrong. He knew a good fight eased the way to actually getting answers.

“Banner isn’t Banner.” She sent out a particularly vicious punch, causing Steve to duck out of the way. Some punches weren’t worth taking anymore. Natasha wasn’t mad at Steve, she was mad at Bruce being taken away from her just when she was sure she had him back.

“Who is he then?” Her mouth twisted as if she was tasting something unpleasant.

“Loki.” She kicked sharply, ducked before throwing two more punches. “You should call Thor.” Steve dealt with another flurry of attacks before she finally put down her fists. “He’s scared.”

“Where’s the real Banner?” Steve asked, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned, burying her face into his shoulder in an unusual display of needing comfort. Steve had been her leader, but he was also her friend.

“He doesn’t know.” Natasha cleared her throat. “I’m leaving tomorrow to look for him.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” She shook her head, curls bouncing. “Thank you, but I need to do this on my own.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Already saved your Wakandan number.” She nodded before they parted ways. Steve appreciated her. She had known how lost he was at times, but she never made him feel bad for being displaced in time. She had been lost at times in her own way and so she helped him how she could best: she showed him and what she couldn’t show, she gave him space to figure out.

Steve would miss her, but she was still with him in her own way. When Steve went back to his (and Bucky’s) room, he promised that tomorrow he would make sure to leave again to come back that night. He wouldn’t get stuck again. He knew he should deal with Loki, but he didn’t want to. He let Thor know and left it at that. Thor would know what to do. Thor would be so happy. Steve’s heart hurt with happiness for the god, hurt for himself too, although that was much harder to admit. Would his arms always be empty except for shields still too heavy?

He went through Bucky’s things, an attempt at packing them up, even though he ended up sitting on the floor in Bucky’s sweatshirt stretched over his large frame, sorting through everything. Most of it was well-catalogued in his mind, familiar, with that haunting trace of Buck to it. However, at the bottom of the gym bag, he found an envelope with nothing inscribed on it except his name in that familiar scrawl. 

With trembling hands he opened the unsealed envelope, pulling out a card. A key slipped out, clattering to the floor. Steve scooped it, letting it lay flat in his palm as he read the contents of the card. He didn’t know what he was expecting to read, maybe a response to the thousands of words he had poured out these past months, but what he read was almost a disappointment.

“Ask the Black Panther.” Was all that Bucky had written. Steve glanced back down at the key, figuring it was at least something. He expected a safety deposit box maybe, but the key was large, carved from vibranium if he had to guess, a star engraved at the top. T’Challa was gone, he thought to himself as he fingered the key. T’Challa was gone, but the Black Panther was not.

“Queen Shuri.” Steve made the proper approach due her station. 

“Steve!” She ran over and hugged him fiercely. He returned the hug with the same gusto. It was good to see her. They had not crossed paths in some time. “How are you?” She looked him once over. “You are looking better than the last time I saw you.” 

“I feel better.” Steve had to laugh. “How are you, Shuri?” He got an eye from her guard who rattled something off, but Shuri waved them away.

“I am well.” She smiled. “I have to say that being queen and the Black Panther is very exhilarating! I am never bored. And when I need down time, I am inventing new tech in my lab.”

“You never cease to amaze me.” Steve said honestly. “And here I am struggling to leave bed some days.”

“I have those days too.” She nodded. “But Wakanda needs me to get up and to keep going. You’ll find your purpose again, Steve.” She seemed more sure than Steve could understand. “So what did you need? Since you did request an official audience with the Queen.” She winked, spreading her hands wide.

“I requested an audience with the Black Panther.” Steve replied, handing her the card and the key. “Bucky left me this.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would ask about this.” Her smile turned knowing. “Bucky was very specific about this secret.” That smile turned on him, and Steve found him longing to know.

“What is it to?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you.” She smirked. “The white wolf made us both swear, even though I wasn’t the Panther at the time. He still needed my help. I mean I did fix him after all.” Steve’s brow furrowed and she tsked.

“You didn’t notice how he was different, lighter even?”

“It was the end of the world, Shuri. I was just glad to see him.” To hold him briefly for one last time.

“I undid the conditioning.” Shuri revealed. “I repaired as much trauma as I could as well. He told me he felt more himself than he had in years.”

“Was that when he told you the stories?”

“He told me those since the first day he was unfrozen. Steve this and Steve that.” She smiled. “He missed you.” She held up the key. “He made this for you, but that is all I can say.” She moved over to a small chest that rested on a desk. Letting the chest scan her face, she opened it up and pulled out another envelope. “If you follow these coordinates, the rest will be explained.”

“So covert.”

“Bucky liked some secrets. This was the purpose that he found here after he found his healing.” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. “He left it for you.”


	6. Power

It was a long journey, especially since it was one Shuri said he had to make by foot.

“At least the first time.” She winked before he was officially dismissed from his audience with the Queen. Bucky’s coordinates led him away from the city and deep into jungle. The path was well- marked but twisted through terrain that went from tough to steep to manageable whenever it wished. Steve didn’t mind. It felt like Bucky was walking with him. He could imagine Bucky on the path, searching out whatever he had left to Steve’s care: his purpose and all that. Steve’s heart ached with each step, wondering what had finally given Bucky purpose again after all the shit this world had put him through.

The trees finally gave way to reveal a house. It was Wakandan in style, implying what help Bucky had. And it was beautiful, flat, blending in with the jungle around it. It was dark, but as Steve stepped up to it, solar lights began to glow, illuminating the path. The key Bucky had left him fit in the lock perfectly, the house humming to life as Steve opened the door. He paused to glance down and the doormat caught his eye. ‘The end of the line’ stared back up at him, welcoming him to what Bucky had left behind. 

There was a communicator left on the table, next to a paper that simply welcomed Steve home. As if he didn’t know, in case he didn’t feel the difference as soon as he stepped inside. Anywhere Bucky had been had been home for Steve and this house was no different. 

Steve reached for the communicator and clicked it on, his eyes tearing up as Bucky’s hologram filled out in the space before him.

“It’s pretty incredible, Steve,” Steve went to nod before he realized this was pre-recorded and Bucky couldn’t see his reactions, “they’ve told me if I just talk into this thing, you’ll see it and I can explain everything.” Bucky paused, the amusement in his blue eyes bleeding out to something far more serious. “Something is coming, Steve, something bad, and I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t have much longer, even though I’m living on borrowed time already. I’m sure you know the feeling.” Bucky shrugged. Steve wished they had been able to talk about all of this in person because he did know the feeling, like he was running out even through he ran out a long time ago.

“Buck.” Steve wiped at his eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears from coming.

“I know we used to say ‘til the end of the line,’ Steve. So I wanted to leave you something, the end of the line so to speak when I’m gone.” There were shadows in Bucky’s eyes and Steve wondered how much he had known would happen. “I keep having terrible nightmares, Steve, and the priest lady says it means I’m at unrest with the thought of dying.” Something hardened in Bucky’s face while his eyes softened. “I ain’t scared of dying, Steve.” Bucky confessed. “I’m scared of leaving you. Even though we’ve got our shit, I know you won’t rest if something happens to me, so I give you this. I give you rest. I give you the home you lost when you crashed in the ice. I give you a place where you can belong again.” Bucky shrugged. “It’s not much, but I wanted you to have something to call your own again.” He faltered as if to say something more, but stopped and smiled at the camera, smiled at Steve who was holding his breath. “Thank you for saving me, Steve.” And Bucky slowly faded away for the second time. Steve placed the communicator down on the table, burying his face in his hands.

“Whoa, nice digs!” Steve jumped at the familiar voice of his other best friend, his other lost friend.

“Sam?!” He wiped his face and turned to see the Falcon standing in what he guessed was now his living room.

“Hey, Steve.” Sam’s face split into a smile. “How you holding up? Shuri said you might be here.”

“Shuri?” Steve asked. “Sam, y-you’re real?”

“How many dead people you’ve been talking to, Steve?” Sam cracked a joke, but Steve looked down at the floor.

“Too many.”

“How long you been holed up here, man?” Sam asked. “The world’s been changing.”

“It changed too much. I stopped trying to keep up.”

“Shuri said this would be a lot, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Sam.” Steve allowed, his tiredness starting to show through on his face. Sam stepped forward cautiously, opening his arms and hugging Sam soundly. He was real. Steve bit back a sob at the realization that he at least had Sam back. He clasped his arms around Sam in return. “You’re real, thank God.”

“What happened, Steve?”

“Y-you—“ Steve blinked back tears, “you all turned to ash in front of me and I couldn’t stop it.” Sam’s face softened.

“I know.” He said softly. “I’m sorry. But Steve, you’re different, you’re, I don’t know, you hold yourself differently.”

“Yea, I’m different.” Steve stiffened. “I lost my whole world in an instant.”

“Not all of us.”

“Too many.” Steve stood his ground. “I lost you,Vis, Wanda, T’Challa, Bucky—.” He couldn’t continue after that, resolutely looking away.

“Bucky.” Sam said with simple understanding. “I haven’t found him yet.”

“He’s been through enough. I’d understand if he didn’t come back.” Sam turned his head and smiled ever so slightly.

“I don’t know, Cap, he’s kind of like you. When he gets something in his mind he sticks to it.” Sam paused. “Anyway, I’m flying back to the city now, you need a lift.”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I just got here. I need a few days to process if this is all really real.”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. “Call us if you need anything.” Steve made eye contact, letting Sam know he heard the offer and that he appreciated it. Sam saluted, closing the door behind him. Steve heard him take off, heard him fly away, and then finally heard silence take over. With time the sounds of the jungle started back up, lulling him into a calmer state.

Sam was back. Sam was back or Steve’s conversations with the dead were getting more realistic. The latter was almost easier to believe because if Sam was back, where was Bucky? Steve shook his head. He couldn’t entertain that thought. If he convinced himself Bucky was back and he wasn’t… Steve didn’t think he could get back a second time. Not that he had a choice with the super serum still in him.

Steve spent the next few days puttering around the house, getting acquainted with the architecture. Bucky had made him more than a house with Wakandan help. He had made Steve a home. He had carved out a place in the world where Steve could belong. Romantic or not, that showed love. Even if it was just as best friends, Bucky had loved Steve. It was powerful, echoing over time and space, creating a moment where Steve could just be. Steve felt the most himself that he had ever felt in his life and while he wanted to give so much credit to Bucky, he also had to give credit to himself and to everyone who had helped him along the way.

Like he had in the palace, Steve didn’t pay much attention to the passing of days. Sure, he ate, slept, used the bathroom, explored, but there was no order to his schedule. He was as far away from the military as he could get it and he liked it that way. At night he familiarized himself with himself, sometimes imagining Bucky, sometimes having help from his night with Thor. Steve was learning to love himself in all the ways. The healing was jagged, and it certainly wasn’t linear, but it was happening. 

The next morning he gazed over into the jungle from his living room window, sipping a hot cup of coffee. Wakandan tech amazed him more than anything else had since coming out of the ice, and to think it might have been around when he had been supposed to be alive. 

“Steve!” He glanced over to see a large gathering of people coming to his house. He saw mostly Wakandans, an excited Shuri and grinning T’Challa leading the way. He placed his cup down before he dropped it, sprinting over to the door to let them in, greeting the royals with a heartfelt hug.

“It is good to be back, brother.” T’Challa embraced him. “Thank you for all you have done for my people and my Queen.”

“Oh, no, you’re getting the throne back so I can go back to my lab.” Shuri protested.

“That is not how being queen works.”

“I know.”

“You are the Panther now. You are the queen now. I will help you wherever I can, but I will not fight you for a chair that is rightfully yours.” Shuri humphed but she was still smiling.

“How?”

“Thanos.” T’Challa didn’t know how to explain it. “Something happened. We came back.” Steve gazed over the happy faces, sucking in a breath when Wanda and Vision came along the path next, their hands entangled together, and then behind them…

Steve couldn’t stop staring if he tried as the last person he expected but the one he longed for the most came into view. Bucky walked up the path easily, a stern look on his face as he took in the jungle and then the house. A soft smile appeared as he looked on his creation and then he glanced in and saw Steve. His smile was replaced by a look of urgency and he hurried up the path, passing Vis and Wanda and the others, coming up behind Shuri and T’Challa who parted so he could pass, sharing knowing smiles.

“Steve.” Bucky sounded a little breathless as he stopped a few steps away. “You’re here.” He sounded confused, delighted, and relieved all at the same time. “I looked for you after— I hoped you were still here.” Bucky had looked for him wherever the ash had taken them all, had hoped Steve had been spared. That was Buck, always looking out for Steve. “What?” Bucky asked innocently, almost too innocently, catching Steve’s eye. “Is it too much?”

“It’s perfect.” Steve finally found his voice. “Thank you, Buck.”

“I wanted you to have a home again.” Bucky stepped away, towards the kitchen, away from all the eagerly listening ears and peering eyes. Shuri reaches out and shut the door, keeping them all out so the two men could finally talk. “I heard you, Steve.” Bucky said. “I don’t know how, it was why I originally looked for you, but I heard you.” He glanced back. He looked cautious like he had as the Winter Soldier when Steve had shown up at his apartment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t respond.”

“You’re here now.” Steve managed. “Nothing has changed for me. I-I still feel the same way.”

“And how do you feel?” Bucky took a step forward.

“I love you, Buck, like we were always taught not to love each other.” Steve figured to start with the shame and to work his way up.

“The world has changed.” Bucky shrugged. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“I loved you since I was little.” Steve breathed a little easier as Bucky took another step forward. “Back when I got winded dancing and would always sit out because I’d rather dance with you than with some girl who was thinking the same damn thing.” Crinkles appeared on the sides of Bucky’s eyes as he smiled at that memory. 

“And now?” Bucky stopped just in front of him, his eyes twinkling.

“The only way this home will be where I belong is if you’re here with me, as my best friend, my lover, maybe someday my husband.” Steve said bravely, laying it all on the line. It always came down to the line with him and Bucky, he wanted to see if they could make it to the end of this particular line.

“I accept.” Buck took that last step, invading Steve’s space. Oh, and if he didn’t have that look in his eyes that made Steve feel ever so weak like he was back in his pre-serum days. Steve opened his mouth to say something, anything, but then Bucky’s hands were behind his neck and he was kissing Steve like he kissed those girls Steve would be jealous of, but so much better.

“I was only with those girls to protect you.” Bucky admitted softly. “I couldn’t have you getting beat over me when I couldn’t be there to protect you. Little Steve.” He grinned. “Then you got big and I had to protect you then still, you and your shield.”

“I fought for you.” Steve ran his fingers through a few strands of Bucky’s hair before running his fingers over his cheekbone. “I was a shield so I could save you.”

“Steve Rogers, always saving me with those damn blue eyes.” Bucky nipped at his bottom lip, demanding another kiss, one Steve was happy to give. “You fought for me even when I didn’t exist anymore. You brought me back.”

“It’s what we do. We risk everything for those we love.”

“Love.” Bucky echoed. He looked up, searching Steve’s eyes. “You really love me, Steve? After all I’ve done?”

“Til the end of the line.” Steve quipped to see those lips smile yet again. “Even beyond.”


End file.
